


hear me howling outside your door

by softresurrection



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Study, F/M, Future Fic, POV Sansa Stark, otherwise titled: i cannot let this go jon i need answers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 19:31:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18923602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softresurrection/pseuds/softresurrection
Summary: That was why she needed to see him. To talk with him once more. To feel his face pressing into her neck and his breath against her skin when she hugged him. Just once more, at least. Oh, it would be so sweet, to see him once again.





	hear me howling outside your door

Dear Jon,

It has been many moons since I last saw you. Much has happened, much is still the same. I am still the same.

A sennight ago, I had a nightmare. It had to do with you. The thought of you beyond the wall scares me, I admit. I know the threat has been vanquished, yet I cannot help but remember Old Nan’s stories about the Land of Always Winter and all the perils a brave man might encounter there.

I’ve been thinking, Jon. You know me, I am a thinker. It is as if my thoughts are tangible and bouncing around in my head, wall to wall, drawing attention. I have unanswered questions, plenty of them. They will not let me rest without knocking on my mind’s door relentlessly.

I called a council of my advisers and questioned whether it would be wise to pardon you so soon, considering that you have been exiled by a king, and have an army worth of people who would see you dead.

I was reminded that I too, am a queen. 

It’s a queer thing, having power. It is not heavy on my head, but it does have a way of holding down the heart. Yet, it means that I can send you this letter, pray it gets to you, and await your arrival in Winterfell. Come home, Jon.

I’ll be waiting.

Sansa Stark, Queen in the North.

\--------------------------

The letter was handed directly to a young boy who had been sent to her solar when she had asked a guard for a trustworthy deliverer, one who would not be afraid to venture beyond the Wall to give Jon the letter with his own hands. 

“Remember, Cley, I want his response brought back with you. Rest at their camp only long enough for sustenance. Return as soon as is possible.” She parted with the letter, signed and sealed.

The boy nodded vigorously. “Yes, your grace.” She gave Cley a small smile before turning back to her writing desk, dismissing him. 

Her heart twisted, her mind casting doubts on every word she had wrote. It was her fifth attempt at the letter, the first being right after she had had that awful nightmare. It had been twilight when she had woken up gasping for air, her heart threatening to beat right out of her chest, Jon’s charred remains imprinted on the backs of her eyes.

She had almost gotten up and checked whether it was Brienne who was guarding her chambers that night, only to provide herself some comfort. All that little thought had done was remind her that she was effectively all alone in Winterfell. As alone as one can be in a castle full of people willing to lay down their lives for them, at least.

So, she had set to work on writing the first draft of that letter under the waning light of the moon by the window in her personal chamber. It had been crumpled and burnt using the flame of a candle, ultimately. It was too real, it contained too much of her deepest thoughts to be entrusted to anyone, much less Jon, who she felt almost estranged to, at present. Almost. As estranged as one can be from those they love.

And that remained the truth. Through all the niggling thoughts parading her mind at all times and through all the rumors she had heard. Through every accusation she wanted to shout at him and every question she desperately needed answers to. All because despite everything, despite all the little things and all the gigantic things, the only time she ever truly felt at peace was in his arms.

That was why she needed to see him. To talk with him once more. To feel his face pressing into her neck and his breath against her skin when she hugged him. Just once more, at least. Oh, it would be so sweet, to see him once again.

\--------------------------

The air felt crisp and fresh as Sansa took a deep breath. The morning was just beautiful enough to make her want to throw caution to the wind and go riding, right in the middle of winter.

Lord Robett Glover was sitting in front of her at the table, his mouth was moving and she could hear him forming words but her mind was not keen on listening too intently. Despite having made an agreement with Lord Glover about his absence from the Great War after he had come to Winterfell for her crowning, the man was not quite content with the situation. He had held several private conversations with her, each on a matter more petty than the last. 

The only reason she had not shut it down yet was because she needed his keep to plant glass gardens, along with all the others. Food was not going to be easy to come by and while she was formulating trade plans with her advisers, none had come to fruition yet. The North needed to be capable of sustaining itself, at least for a few more moons.

The glass gardens initiative had been her own, remembered from a talk with Robin Arryn, her cousin who lived in a castle on the top of a barren mountain. The Vale had long been self sufficient with its method of food production. She was trying to get the North to emulate that model.

Every lord she had asked has acquiesced uptil now, Lord Hornwood, Lord Cerwyn, Lord Manderly, even the new Lord of Bear Island. Although, she supposed, the last one probably needed to do all that was possible at the moment to curry favour with his queen.

The up-side of it all was that Northern lords weren’t nearly as clever as the treacherous politicians the South bred. They were easier to mold without the weight of politics hanging over their heads, easier to listen to new ideas for survival. As such, it didn’t require all of her brainpower to maneuver through a simple conversation.

That was why her roaming eyes could continue scanning the courtyard, and her mind could continue imagining riding through a crisp summer morning while also politely continuing the conversation with Lord Robett.

Of course, that is, until her eyes landed on the boy she had sent with her letter a fortnight ago. He was having a conversation with another lad who had been sparring in the training yard a few minutes ago.

Sansa stood up abruptly, turning to Lord Glover. “I’m sorry, my lord, but I have forgotten a duty of mine.” She could see the irritation on his face as he clambered to his feet right after her, so she continued. “I just got so engrossed in our talk I completely forgot. Maybe we could continue it another time?” 

His annoyance all but melted away. “Of course, your grace. Would you like me to escort you?”

She shook her head, giving him a smile. 

The man returned her smile warmly, bowed, and walked away towards the entrance to the keep. 

Sansa turned towards Cley. Her anger felt palpable as she stalked towards him with as much grace as possible. As she neared him, all the trainees in the yard noticed her, turning and bowing. She nodded at them, continuing towards the boy. 

Hadn’t she told him to come straight to her? Was the most important thing in her life, the thing that she had entrusted this green boy to do, not worthy enough for him to come straight to her? 

Cley finally noticed her, his eyes going wide. He immediately bent into a bow so deep it looked painful. It was the way men had bowed to Cersei, to Daenerys. Was her rage so clear that she looked frightening to the boy? The very thought made her feel sick. So what if he had dawdled a bit to see his friend. Had she not been near his age when she had proclaimed to love Joffrey with all her heart?

Her face straightened out, consciously going into a warmer expression. Without saying a word, she extended her hand. When the boy still did not procure a letter from his person, her heart started sinking.

“Your Grace, I-, I don’t have a letter from the Ki-, from Lord Sno- Lord Stark?” If her heart didn’t feel like it had an icy fist around it, his confusion about Jon’s title would have come as a joke. Something she could correct him on with a smile.

As it was, all she could do was raise her brows. “Is that so?”

The boy nodded vigorously. “Yes, your grace, Lor- he said to tell you that he’ll be here soon.”

The grip around her heart slowly released, the pain in her chest lessening. “He said that? Jon said that to your face?”

Cley nodded once again. “He said, ‘Tell Sansa I’ll be there. I always will if she needs me.’” Then his face started to change again. “Your Grace, I am so sorry for calling you by name. He said it.”

Sansa’s burgeoning smile threatened to overtake her face. “Well, that’s news you should have ran to my chambers yelling about, Cley.” The boy’s surprise at her remembering his name was clear on his face. Her good spirits just kept rising higher. “Run along now. Ser Ryon should be somewhere around here. Tell him the queen said he owes you two dragons more than you were promised.”

The boy’s smile was wide enough to parallel the one she mentally wore. “Thank you kindly, your grace.” He bowed deep enough to break his back once again before running off to the castle.

She could feel all the eyes on her in the courtyard. Luckily, this yard had a straight path to the Heart Tree. Ground where the Night King was slain or not, the place still brought her peace. Maybe even more peace than before, as she chose to believe that now Theon, too, was looking over her from her position near the tree.

As Sansa sat down on the wood under the branches, she felt the wind whistling in her ears. “I know, Theon, I know. He’s coming.”

**Author's Note:**

> "Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago  
> Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword  
> Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know  
> I slithered here from Eden just to hide outside your door"  
> this verse is from hoziers song 'from eden' which mostly inspired me to write tonight
> 
> please forgive me for any glaring spelling\grammar errors or tell me nicely uwu


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